


the rumble where you lay

by teruhvighnen



Series: the drug, the dark, the light, the flame [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Sam's POV, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 07:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teruhvighnen/pseuds/teruhvighnen
Summary: When Bucky visits, Sam calls in his most trusted adviser: his mom.





	the rumble where you lay

Sam Wilson has never known what it is like not to have a family member to turn to in times of need. He knows he’s lucky in that way, and in many ways. Sam also knows that the true measure of wealth is the ability to share it.

 _“He left,_ ” Steve is saying over the phone. Sam has it cradled between his ear and his shoulder, trying to get America dressed.

“He just…up and left?”

_“He packed his bags and he left. He said he loved me, and he loved the kids, but he couldn’t stay. Not like he is now. Bucky said he’s scared he’s going to hurt us so he left. He said he wanted to get better. But I don’t understand why he thinks he has to do this alone.”_

“It seems like a good sign though, that he wants to go and get better right?”

_“Sam, I can’t raise them by myself. I need him. I can’t –I don’t even know.”_

It’s the powerlessness, Sam knows. Steve is crumbling under the weight of things he has no power over, things he desperately want to have control over, because then it would make sense, because then he can do something about it.

 _“He wouldn’t even tell me what happened. Just…”_ Steve sighs, the sound of resignation or defeat. _“If you see him, will you tell him, please, that I’m here. I will always be here for him.”_

“If I see him, I will. Steve, take care of yourself okay? I’ll get Riley and America and we’ll drive in to see you soon, alright?”

_“Thanks. Sam, thank you.”_

* * *

Bucky Barnes shows up at his doorstep two weeks after the phone call from Steve. Bucky looks like a wreck. His eyes are dark and tired, and his hands are shaking. Sam lets him in without a word. A part of Sam wants to scream at his friend, but the bigger, better part of Sam offers Bucky a coffee and a blanket and an undisturbed nap on the futon in the living room.

Sam watches Bucky as he curls in on himself. His expression is blank, but everything is displayed everywhere else. The eyebags, the dead giveaway of sleepless nights. The shaking hands, the sign of withdrawal and anxiety. The lethargy, the silence. Nothing about Bucky says that he’s getting any better. _You can’t do this alone._

It takes ten minutes before Bucky is passed out on the futon and Sam contemplates whether he should call Steve and tell him, whether he should call Riley and tell him. The VA? A therapist? Sam shakes his head. If he was in Bucky’s position, he wouldn’t appreciate being cornered like that.

Sam makes up his mind and finds his phone. “ _Hey, Mama, do you have time to visit me today?”_

* * *

Sam’s mom is a pillar. She always has been. He’s never known her as anything else but strong.

She doesn’t ask him what’s wrong the moment she sees Bucky’s figure on the futon, fast asleep.

“Oh boy,” she says, but her words are full of fondness; no pity, no judgement, no anger of any kind. “Let’s let him sleep.”

Sam’s mom makes her way to the kitchen and starts grabbing what she needs to make them lunch. She doesn’t ask him about Bucky; that’s not her style. She’d rather hear it from the source rather than anyone else. And anyway, Sam hasn’t talked to Bucky either. He has nothing to tell her except that Bucky is in a bad way and that he needs help.

Sam knows Bucky’s parents aren’t in his life, that they stopped being in his life ever since he graduated high school and enlisted in the military. Sam knows that Steve had no qualms sharing his brother, Riley, and their adoptive father, Abraham Erskine with Bucky, but ever since Dr. Erskine died seven years ago, there had been no other parental figures in Steve and Bucky’s lives.

Sam is sitting on the sofa adjacent to the futon when Bucky stirs and wakes up. Sam looks up from his phone, sending Bucky a reassuring smile.

“Hey, man. How are you? Are you doing okay?” Sam asks. Bucky looks kind of groggy still, grimacing when he sits up. Before he can reply though, (and Sam can see how hard it is for Bucky to say something), Mama interrupts them. She brings over a big old pot of soup and places it on the placemat on the dining table.

“Samuel,” she scolds, “we don’t ask guests such heavy questions before they’ve even eaten. We ask them after, so they’re content and more likely to say the truth.” She says with a smile, directing all of that sunlight towards Bucky. Bucky isn’t immune, and his face mirrors her own. He smiles back at Sam’s mom.

Bucky stands up, “Ma’am. I’m sorry. I don’t want to intrude.”

She waves him away. “Hush. You’re always welcome here. Isn’t he, Samuel?”

Sam nods at her and at Bucky. He gets up from where he’s sitting too and makes his way to the dining room, making sure that Bucky is right behind him, following. They both sit at the dining table and his Mama places three bowls on the table and starts ladling soup into them. She urges Bucky to dig in carefully.

“It’s very hot.” But it is good. It tastes like every other time she’s made it, tastes like home and childhood and warm summer days. He tells her so.

They eat in near silence. Sam’s Mama talks about her knitting club. _Oh, I’ll need to make you a warm scarf_ , she says to Bucky. _And you,_ she looks at Sam, _did you remember to give my son-in-law those socks I made for him?_

Bucky laughs along when she tells them stories about Sam’s childhood. _He always wanted to fly. Always asking his cousins to cover for him when he broke something. Now, I saw through them; they’re all bad liars._

She says, “I can always tell when they were lying.” Sam knows she says this for a reason. He can see that Bucky does too. His hand tightens around the spoon he’s holding. But Sam’s Mama keeps the smile on her face the whole time. And maybe that’s what makes Bucky break down. Sam’s Mama always has a way to make people tell her the truth. Even better, to make people allow themselves to be vulnerable with her.

When Sam was nineteen, he’d been dead scared to tell her that he didn’t like girls, that he wasn’t ever going to. He was stone-faced when he told her; he didn’t want her to see any weakness in him. He wanted to be strong in his convictions. But as soon as the words left his mouth, she had gathered him in her arms. _I ain’t ever gonna love you any less, you know that._ And Sam broke down, bawling in her arms.

Bucky’s tears fall freely from his eyes and he tries to wipe them away.

“Oh, honey,” she says, coming over to sit by him. “You’re in a safe place. No one’s coming to hurt you.” Sam’s Mama always knows what to say, even more so what to say to people who’ve been to war. Sam’s granddad had been a war veteran and his Mama couldn’t help him then. But after, she had taken psychology in school and became a therapist to help people. She’s been retired for a while now, but her expertise and advice never fall short of helpful.

Bucky tells them that he’s struggling with everything. He wants to forget all the time. He wants to drink and smoke and do anything to forget the desert, the capture, the torture. _Sometimes_ , Bucky says, _I don’t even know if this is real. What if this is just a dream? What if I didn’t make it home alive? I keep thinking I’m gonna wake up there, and I’ll still be in hell._

“You don’t have to do anything by yourself. You don’t have to tell me everything you went through, if you don’t want. But I’m gonna tell you and I want you to listen. The people who love you for you are never gonna love you any less because of what you’ve been through and how it’s affecting you.”

Sam nods along to reassure Bucky. Bucky starts crying on her shoulder and she runs her hand through his hair and settles it on his nape. “You take all the time you need, baby.”

“I don’t want it to be too late.”

She shakes her head. “The thing about recovery is that there’s no set time. You don’t fail because you haven’t gotten better in a week, or a month, or even a year. Scars and hurts like yours. They’re not Sam’s broken legs from trying to fly. Pain like yours, it’s not as easy as putting it in a cast and waiting for it heal. Whatever you gotta do so that you can be who you wanna be again, then do it.”

“Thanks. Thank you, Mrs. Wilson.” Bucky says, wiping the tears from his face.

She smiles at him and laughs. “You can call me Darlene. Or better yet, just Mama. Like Samuel does.”

Bucky nods, “Mama. Thank you.”

* * *

Sam offers to drive Bucky back to Brooklyn, but Bucky shakes his head. “Manhattan.”

“Bucky. Steve called me a couple of weeks ago.”

Bucky hangs his head. “Sam, I can’t…not yet.”

“He just said to tell you that he’s always gonna be there for you.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything back.

“We’ll all always be here for you, Barnes, you know that, right? Tell me you know that.”

“Thanks. I’ll…uh…I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You know you’re part of my family now, okay. Like, Mama’s adopted you now. She’s not gonna let you do this alone.”

“Yeah, I…Natasha’s with me in Manhattan.”

Sam nods, “good.”

“Sam. Steve, he…”

“I know. You don’t gotta explain it to me now. I’ll look after him. You just look after yourself, okay? Promise me, Barnes.” Sam puts up his pinky finger and Bucky hooks it with his own.

When Bucky disappears behind the doors of the VA, he knows that whatever happens now, Bucky’s gonna be okay.

 

**Author's Note:**

> last one before the stucky pov. promise.  
> (prayer circle i dont lost motivation)


End file.
